by Les Haswell
“Isn’t that a bit OTT Robbie?” she grinned, toasting him.
“It’s called security. It’s what I do and I’m very good at it. I’ve never lost a client yet.” He toasted Lorna in return and winked.
“If you say so.”
“I do. Better to be safe than sorry. To paraphrase what you said earlier: I only got you back and I don’t want to lose you.”
Lorna nodded. “How was Fraser?”
“On the mend. It looks as if he took a fair beating, mind you. I need to put that to rights,” said Rob, staring into a corner. “He said you’d fill me in on the goings on at Achravie Estate. He also told me about the aftermath of the accident, and what transpired with the family and all.”
She sipped slowly and reflected on that evening. “I never for a minute thought you were driving that night. I knew you too well, probably better than anyone knew you at that time. Fraser tried hard to get your family to listen to his side of events, but Angus was the only one who’d actually listened. Really sad all round, I say. Your mother and father lost each other, Angus lost his father and both brothers, you lost your entire family and friends … and I lost my best friend.” Lorna drew a lengthy breath and forced the dejection from her expression and tone. “About two years ago, not long after your father had his first stroke, Bruce had big iron gates constructed at the entrance. Just after that, so-called security guards arrived. They’re foreign—Eastern Europeans, I think.”
“They’re Bosnians, I was in Kosovo for a short while and recognised the language earlier tonight,” Rob threw in.
“Not long after, they built a large warehouse-type building in a fairly remote corner of the estate—beyond the pond. Bruce said it was to house equipment and agricultural supplies … better than leaving them outside. We were all sceptical. Next, they built a huge, high fence around it.” She smiled darkly. “Right—that’ll be to stop the tractors from partying at night. No one’s allowed near the estate without security clearance, or an invite.
“A couple of local lads determine to have a look from time to time, but they get caught by those big oafs and beaten up. Obviously, it’s meant as a deterrent to others and it works, because pretty much no one goes anywhere near the estate … unless they’ve made an appointment to see Bruce. Pretty much everyone who worked on the estate has been paid off now … except Fraser.
“Then he turned up at the hospital. Bruce and two of his pals brought him in. Said he’d had an accident on a quad bike and fell down a gully by the castle.” She eyes narrowed. “When I saw him, he said four of Bruce’s ‘security guards’ had stopped him near the warehouse. They proceeded to give him a systematic beating. He thought they were going to kill him … till Bruce arrived and stopped them.
“Fraser said the whole thing was getting out of control—that’s when he told me to phone you, and warned me not to tell anyone, or give the number to anyone else. The rest you know. There’s definitely something illegal going on and someone’s going to get killed, what with the way things are going.”
Rob finished the last of the wine. Seeing her glass was also empty, he got up and refilled them, and leaned into a wall. “Sounds like it. You were right to call. And Fraser should have called long before now.”
“He wasn’t sure you’d come. It’s been a long time, after all. I know that Fraser kept track of you for a while, but then you disappeared. He wasn’t sure if that number you provided so long ago was still functional.” Lorna sipped thoughtfully. “You look so different. You’re all grown up … and even bigger.” She chuckled. “I almost didn’t recognise you in the Red Loin. I kept looking over and wondering if you were Robbie MacLaine. Lizzie told me not to be daft when I asked if she knew. Then came back after talking to you and said she thought I might be right.” She chuckled again. “She mentioned it to her dad, but he told her she was mistaken. He knew your eyes were blue, and the guy he was talking to had brown ones.”
Rob grinned and scanned her lovely face. “You’ve changed a bit yourself, madam. When I left, you were just a slip of a girl. Look at you now—a beautiful, mature woman.”
“We’ll have less of the ‘mature’ if you don’t mind,” Lorna quipped.
“We’ll stick to the beautiful, then.”
They both laughed.
He crouched before her. “Are you happy, Lorna? That’s what matters in life.”
“I am.” She brushed his cheek with the back of a slender hand. “Stella’s good for me, and we’re good together. You must be shocked, your best pal a lesbian.”
“I ‘m not. There was never anything sexual between us. Sometimes I wanted there to be, but I knew you didn’t … and I suppose I wondered even then.” He kissed her hand. “I’m delighted that you’re happy. I’ve missed having you as part of my life … my best pal.” Rob smiled wistfully and returned to the settee.
“I was gutted when Fraser told me you’d gone … and angry that you didn’t tell me you were going. Then I got angry with Fraser for refusing to tell me anything. Broken-hearted, I was.” She shrugged. “Time marched on and all my friends started having real boyfriends … but I wasn’t interested. At first, I put it down to not having you around. But then I became attracted to girls and, again, I put it down as a reaction to losing you. Finally, I realised that I was gay.” Another shrug. “It’s not easy to have a gay relationship on Achravie, but I did have a couple of girlfriends at university and then teacher training in Glasgow. I came back here when an opportunity presented itself … and eventually met Stella. The rest, as they say, is history.” She regarded him quizzically. “What about you—are you a happy bunny?”
Rob considered it. “I suppose. I hated everybody for a while—hated Bruce for what he’d done, my father for believing him and sending me away, my mother for taking their side, and Fraser for doing what he was told. I hated everyone who wouldn’t allow me to contact anybody here.” He heaved a loud sigh. “But you can only hate everybody for so long; then you get hardened to it. You accept it and move on.
“The only way I could do that was to turn my back on the whole scenario … pretend it never happened. So I threw myself into my army career. I became focussed, driven, determined to succeed. I went through the ranks, first in the Black Watch, and then the Royal Regiment of Scotland. Eventually, I found myself in charge of a small tactical unit and transferred to Special Forces. I got to go to lovely places like Kosovo, Afghanistan and Iraq, to name but a few. I wore local dress, grew beards, got involved in skirmishes, not all of which turned out as planned.”
With a rueful smile, Rob fingered the scar on his face. “I spent as much time in those places as I could studying. Sat and passed my officer exams and became a ‘Rupert’… an officer to you”
It was Lorna’s turn to refill the glasses and she did so with a bittersweet smile. When she was seated again, she motioned him to continue.
“I realised when I’d had enough, so with the cuts in the armed forces, I got a chance to leave … came out as a Lieutenant with a good package. I’d met a guy called Joe Harper in Iraq and we got on really well. When we realised we were going to be on Civvy Street around the same time, we decided to put our skills to good use and set up Harper MacLaine Security. It’s going really well now; we’re fully established, have a good solid and loyal client base, and are very profitable.” His smile was fleeting. “I’m making some real money for a change.”
“What about a love life … significant others?”
He chuckled. “Joe always said I was the king of the one-night stands, which was a bit unfair. He said I was never without a girl, just never the same one, which was also unfair. I simply never met a woman I wanted spend quality time with—upward of a couple of nights.” He smiled self-consciously. “Well, until a few days ago. I literally bumped into a woman in a bar … spilled her drink on her, truth be told. We got talking, drinking, talking some more. It turned out she works for one of our major clients. She’s PA to their CEO, who’s a good friend of mine. But who k
nows how things’ll go?”
“Sounds promising,” Lorna teased. “Seriously, I do hope it works out. A good partner can bring a lot to your life.”
14
They talked about their lives over the last few years. Rob told Lorna as many of his “war stories” as he felt he could; much of his Special Forces work was governed by the Official Secrets Act, and he never spoke about that. Lorna talked about Achravie and answered questions about what happened to the various people they’d known.
Eventually, Lorna glanced at the digital clock on the far wall and rubbed her weary eyes. “You do realise it’s nearly half one in the morning? I’ve got school in a few hours although, thankfully, I don’t need to be in first thing. I’m heading for bed. Have you got everything you need?”
“Yep,” said Rob, getting up from the settee. “Thanks for everything.”
She, too, rose. “It’s me should be thanking you, for goodness sake. It was me that begged you to come.” Hooking her arms around his shoulders, she buried her head into his chest.
Rob hugged her tightly.
“I love you, Rob MacLaine.” Lorna eyed him intently. “You were like a brother to me. I never felt so close to anyone. I truly thought I’d lost you.” A tear trickled down her cheek.
He wiped it away and kissed her forehead. “I love you too, Lorna, you were always the sister I never had. And now, I’ve got my best friend back. I won’t lose you again, I promise.” Now off to bed, I’ve got things to do tomorrow as well. Good night Lorna.
Lorna wished him peaceful sleep and went to her room. Rob washed the glasses and left them on the drainer. After checking that all doors and windows were secure, he undressed and slipped into bed.
He lay awake for a while, thinking about the morning and what needed to be done. Finally, with the bedside light still on, he drifted into restless sleep. Somewhere in his subconscious, he heard a noise—the creak of a floorboard, or maybe a creaking hinge. He reached under the pillow and found the gun. There was a soft knock at the door.
Peering in, Lorna whispered urgently, “Are you awake?”
“What’s up?” He propped himself on one elbow, his other hand releasing the gun.
The door swung open. “I could see the light and wondered if you were still awake.” She closed the door behind. “I don’t want to be on my own tonight. Can I sleep with you—and I mean sleep, not sex, just sleep, and maybe a cuddle?”
Rob could see the anxiety in her eyes as easily as he could hear it. “Sure, jump in. Just sleep and a cuddle.” He pulled back the duvet for her.
She lifted the pale pink cotton nightdress over her head and dropped it to the floor, revealing an expensive black lacy thong. She was indeed a beautiful woman he thought as she reclined next to him he covered her with the duvet.
“You didn’t keep your knickers on when we went skinny dipping after school,” he teased.
“You didn’t keep your boxers on. I’m just following your lead, Mr MacLaine,” she said as he spooned her. She wiggled her bottom against his groin. “We don’t want you getting any ideas.” She took his hand and cupped it around one of her breasts. “Cuddle and sleep,” she murmured, closing her eyes, appearing content.
“Cuddle and sleep,” he repeated quietly, giving her breast the lightest of squeezes and closing his eyes.
Rob rose early and, without waking Lorna, ambled to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. He was sitting at the small table in boxers, deep in thought as to how to tackle Bruce and his attendant muscle, when Lorna entered in her nightdress.
“Mornin’ Robbie,” she said sleepily, ruffling her hair, and helping herself to a mug of coffee. She sat opposite him and scanned his bare torso. Stretching across the table and touching a couple of the scars on his upper arm, she said, “When you said ‘various skirmishes, not all of which turned out as planned’, I take it that’s where you got these?”
“They’re just painted on to get women to touch me,” he joked.
“I’m sorry about last night. I just felt so alone lying there with you next door … and not having seen you for so long. But I was being unfair to you.”
“I get to sleep with a gorgeous near-naked women, and you think that’s unfair? I take it you and Stella sunbathe topless by the way.”
Lorna slapped his shoulder playfully. “That’s for me to know and you to find out. We might go nudie, but I kept my knickers on, so you’ll never know.”
“I’ll check with Stella. I’m sure she’ll be glad you kept your knickers on!”
Lorna almost spilled coffee. “Don’t you dare!!”
“I’ll tell her a kept my boxers on as well,” Rob chuckled.
“I’ve tried to explain our relationship to Stella, and I’m sure she thinks she understands, but I can see a wary look in her eyes. Despite that wee speech before she left yesterday, she wasn’t happy about me staying here with you.”
“She’ll get used to us … I hope. It might help when she sees me with another woman,” he said.
“What’s she like, this other woman?”
“Justine’s a leggy blond, with good tits and nice arse—her words, not mine.” He smiled as he recalled her saying that. “Actually, we only met that once.”
“Dare I ask if she kept her knickers on?”
They laughed.
“She was with me when I got your call, so I explained what it was about and that I needed to get here. Next thing, she’s arranged her boss’ helicopter to fly me here. I think you’d like her. She’s intelligent, witty, spirited …”
“But most importantly, has good tits and a nice arse,” she said with a wry smile.
“A bit like you.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m goin’ for a shower.” She headed to the bathroom and stopped at the door. Turning her backside to him, she looked from it to him. “Do you really think I’ve got a nice arse?
“I don’t know for sure; you kept your knickers on. Good tits, though.”
“Cheek!” The bathroom door closed with a bang.
The room Rob and Lorna had slept in had an en suite, so he showered there and got dressed while Lorna did the same in the other room. They reappeared in the lounge area at the same time with Lorna carrying an overnight bag and Rob a bag of tricks slung over his shoulder.
“Let’s get you home to your other half,” Rob said, picking up the keys to the cottage and heading to the door.
“You be careful out there today, please. These are very scary people,” Lorna warned, taking hold of Rob’s hand as they walked to the car.
“The Taliban are very scary people. In comparison, these guys are just pussycats,” Rob reassured her, as much to convince himself as Lorna.
They sat quietly as they drove the short distance to Lorna and Stella’s cottage. When they stopped before the front door, Lorna leaned over and kissed Rob’s scarred cheek. “If I’d been around, I could‘ve kissed it better,” she joked. “Best if we keep last night’s sleeping arrangement to ourselves, eh?”
“For sure. Mind you, I’ll need to ask Stella about the nudie sunbathing,” Rob smiled.
“Don’t you dare!”
“Of course I won’t,” he winked. “It would take all the fun out of finding out for myself.”
She poked his arm playfully and climbed out.
“I’ll meet you in the Red Lion at seven tonight, all going well …”
15
With Radio Clyde playing softly on the car radio, Rob drove along the scenic coast road and passed the big iron gates, which hadn’t been there the last time he’d been here. He continued up the hill toward the castle ruins and the pond, where the warehouse was situated.
He wanted to avoid meeting anyone as that would most certainly mean confrontation; he needed to avoid that until he knew what was going on behind these ominous closed gates and high fences. Rob drove past the ruins and into the Pay & Display car park. Being the start of the tourist season, the car park was half full, so the Land Rover wouldn’t look conspicuous
.
He climbed to the upper edges of the castle site, which allowed him to view much of Achravie Estate, including a distant view of Hillcrest House where he’d been brought up. He banished thoughts of those young years and concentrated on the here and now. Pulling out compact binoculars from his rucksack, he surveyed the lush countryside.
The pond sat to his right and the warehouse a little farther beyond. A prefabricated concrete structure, it was very similar to the storage facilities the military used in temporary bases. This one showed signs of age and weathering; spreading green algae was visible on the corrugated roof. The only window visible from Rob’s hilltop perch was a long narrow one below the roofline. Perhaps there was another window on the far side of the building, though he doubted it.
That window would be the only way to see what was being stored inside, without having to gain access to the building itself. Given the window was visible from the main road and the castle site, albeit from a distance, it appeared that Rob would have to climb up there during darkness. The building itself was surrounded by a chain-link fence approximately nine foot high and topped with barbed wire. Intermittent floodlights were situated around the perimeter fence, which Rob believed were motion-sensor activated.
He lowered the binoculars and looked around. The vista was quite panoramic. To the north was open sea and to the west he could clearly see the Mull of Kintyre. He’d never actually been on the Kintyre Peninsula he realised, despite having overlooked it for the first eighteen years of his life. His time off the island had taken him to Arran, the main island, and then on to Glasgow and Ayrshire, but never to the remote Kintyre Peninsula.